Epic Proportions: Genealogy
by Kaisynaya
Summary: For Hermione, blood definitely does not make the wizard
1. Genesis

This is part one in a trilogy I intend on writing. I have most of it worked out. The trilogy is "Epic Proportions" and part one is called "Genealogy." And by the way, I realize this is a boring chapter, but I need to set up scenes and sentiments and set a bit of a pace for the entire story line. (For those of you who are curious, part 2 will be "Redemption" and part three "Utopia."

I regret to inform you all that Rowling owns Harry Potter and I don't. All the more power (money) to her. Including mine as I invest further into the Harry Potter world. Constructive criticisms welcome. 

I want to include romance somewhere in here, but at the moment I'm not certain what pairings I would like. I prefer straight, but I'm open to others. Please feel free to provide suggestions, but if you do, I would appreciate you to also mention why you feel it works.

This chapter was re-edited by me - thus it looks different. Very tiny changes.

Epic Proportions: Genealogy: Genesis

Hermione Granger always considered herself normal. A regular, run-of-the-mill daughter of two dentists. Just with above-average intelligence because of her studies. Then, right when she turned eleven, she received a notice that completely threw off that theory. Oh, how she fondly recalled those memories of normality! 

Immediately she set out with her parents to learn all she could of the magic world. She poured over books and more books, soaking up all the knowledge she could to not make a fool of herself when she got to the school. 

She began to notice almost every book she came across describing magic life discussed the differences between muggle-borns and purebloods. It was then she first realized that perhaps all wizards did not look upon her kind with respect. It was then she first came across Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort, she found, convinced many pureblooded witches and wizards that muggleborn magic folk were a disgrace to the community. She found out about his desired purge of muggles and it was then that she first realized what she was up against as the next few sentences caught her eye. 

She found out while Voldemort still had followers, he was now dead. He had been defeated by a little baby named Harry Potter in 1981. 

She continued studying all she could about the magic world, and by the time she entered Hogwarts, she probably knew more of the wizarding history that most wizards and witches. Her goal: to show the world muggleborn witches could be as powerful as purebloods, if not more.

She grew up since then. It was now 1998, and Hermione Granger had the position she knew since second year she was going to receive: Head Girl. 

Ron clutched his stomach when it growled in annoyance about the lack of food. "What's taking so long to bring in the first year students? My stomach's going to start eating itself!"

"Really, Ron!" Hermione looked up from the book she was reading to pass the time. "Why are you constantly so hungry? I know your family feeds you more than enough!"

Harry, sitting beside Ron and across from Hermione, met her eyes with amusement. 

"It's just that my stomach knows what's going to happen! It knows in about thirty minutes the greatest feast ever will be right here - right in front of me and it wants it now!"

Before either Harry or Hermione could respond, McGonagall led the newest batch of Hogwarts students into the Great Hall. 

Every year at this time, Hermione always remembered her own sorting:

__

"You've got a good head on your shoulders. Definitely some potential Ravenclaw material here. Your loyalty to your family and your muggle friends could easily make you a great Hufflepuff. Oh! Now this is most interesting!" The Sorting Hat was getting quite a laugh out of something in her head. "Not your head, but your genetics. Oh, don't worry! I don't support Voldemort. You could easily fit into Slytherin if it wasn't for your parents." The Hat chortled quite a bit more here. "No, I think its best you be a Gryffindor, with the courage you go into this world unknown to you and the dedication you have to showing everyone who's boss. Besides, I need a good laugh!"

She tried to forget about that whole experience, knowing that she didn't have a chance figuring out what the hat found so humorous about her and her sorting. As much as she didn't want to admit it, it was going to be one of those mysteries in her life. That wasn't so bad, she figured. Lavender and Parvati always told her a girl needed to have some mystery to her. She just imagined that wasn't quite what they meant. 

Harry and Ron were looking at her strangely. Well, Ron tried but he was more preoccupied with seeing how much food he could fit in his mouth. 

"There's food on the table, Hermione. Are you going to eat?" Harry asked her, a bit concerned. Hermione went through quite a few changes over the summer. She was still as natural as usual, but now she wore some lip-gloss, and more notably, her hair tamed itself over summer vacation. It went to about the middle of her back, and consisted of lovely chestnut curls. She told Harry she was just as surprised. Harry hoped she wasn't also going through a "no-eating" phase. She was, after all, much slimmer than she used to be, but she brushed that off telling them she starting exercising more. 

He shouldn't have worried. Hermione dove into the food almost as fast as Ron had. Five minutes later she slowed down the shoveling. "Exercising makes you so hungry!" She moaned. "And sorry about that, Harry. I was just thinking back to our sorting. It's hard to believe this is our final year here, isn't it?"

Ron grinned. "One more year of Snape!" The whole trio breathed a sigh of relief before leaning back in their chairs contently. 

"Hey, look up there," Harry motioned to the teacher's table. All the teachers appeared to be discussing something important. Quite avidly for that matter. All the teachers were taking part in the discussion, except for Snape. He was scowling at Dumbledore from his seat, not that that was new or anything. 

"I don't think I've ever seen the teachers talk that much at the table before." Ron remarked. "What do you suppose they're talking about?" He punctuated his question with a giant gulp of pumpkin juice. 

"Dumbledore's standing up! Maybe he's going to make an announcement about something!" Hermione said excitedly, her curiosity piqued. Then she almost seemed to realize the stupidity of pointing out what was quite obvious.

"Maybe they came to their senses and decided to fire Snape!" All three matched gazes and sighed, dismayed. "Wishful thinking," Ron added. 

"Students," Dumbledore's voice echoed from every crevice. He was just as old as ever since no one had made a decent de-aging potion or spell yet, and still just as magical and awe-inspiring as he was their first year. "The other professors have asked me to go ahead and announce a project everyone is required to do. This year we're going to be tracking our ancestral roots. Every professor will be teaching different things relating to lineage and family background. For instance, charms to reveal parents' identities, or potions to do the same."

Snape scowled further. Which explained a lot. 

"We expect you all to use this knowledge wisely and write home to your families for any information they have in their possession to help you write a comprehensive analysis of your ancestral roots. Also, each test done in class will be done privately to ensure no hard feelings and to not encourage rude comments between peers. None of the professors will tolerate any insults concerning another student's parentage. Those students that are adopted may research either their adoptive or biological family."

Harry shuddered at that. Research Vernon's family? No way. He'd rather kiss Malfoy. Not that that was altogether an appealing thought either. 

Hermione gave him a sort of half-hearted smile, as if she knew what he was thinking. There were quite a few torn and destroyed families because of Voldemort. Thoughts of traitorous family members or even dead ones weren't pleasant for anyone. 

Professor Dumbledore surveyed the entire room, hoping his words sunk in to the student body. He didn't trust many of the Slytherins when it came to the teasing of muggleborn witches and wizards. He knew of Draco Malfoy's ritual teasing and ridiculing. When he was younger, it was excusable. Lucius had raised him like that. Now that he's older, he has the power to make his own choice to stop this. 

Why were the students still looking at him? He did encourage attention when he wanted it, but now he was sitting…no he wasn't. Time to cover his little slip up. "And I hope you all find enjoyment and release in this project," and he sat down to finish his meal. Maybe Minerva was right. He was getting senile in his old age. 

He turned to his side to see Minerva smirking at him. He glared light-heartedly. She knew him too well. 

"Well, I think this project should be interesting, don't you Harry?" Hermione asked, setting down her glass of pumpkin juice. "Perhaps we'll find some skeletons in the closet."

Ron's eyes widened. "Skeletons in a closet? Why would you want to find some of those?!"

Hermione, Harry, and Seamus who was sitting next to Hermione all laughed. "It's a muggle saying, Ron. It means finding out dark secrets people in your family were trying to hide." Seamus explained, holding back some of his laughter. 

"Ah, I see. I think. But anyway, the good thing about this project is I can just get Ginny to do all the work! After all, we do have the exact same roots!" Ron grinned. There was a good point to this whole thing.

"And don't you think it would be downright ironic if it turns out your mother had been sleeping with some other red-head man and one of you was the result of that?" Seamus chimed back.

"NO! It would NOT!" Ron's grin was replaced with a scowl.

"You know, Ron, every day you start looking more and more like Snape. Maybe he's your father! Well, except for the red hair."

"Harry! I thought you were better than to fall down to his level!" A chagrined Ron exclaimed wounded. 

"It could be dyed, you know," Seamus grinned. "Except he would probably have to have the tell-tell freckles."

Harry shrugged. "All in good fun."

"Oh, yes! Let's have a 'Let's Torment Ron Day!'"

Harry, Seamus, and a few other Gryffindors who heard the conversation all raised eyebrows. "Okay!"

"NO!"

"Well, you just suggested-"

"Neville, please don't remind me."

"What I want to know," Hermione started, waiting for the boys to stop teasing Ron, "is why we suddenly have a large project this year when we never had one before this."

Harry smiled. "Maybe Dumbledore was already in on Let's Torment Ron Day and decided he wanted to be the first one to do it."

Hermione looked at him. "Are you serious?"

"No."

"Good, you had me worried there for a moment." She stood up and backed off a bit. "Well, I'll see you guys later. I might pop back to the Common Room after I unpack in my _private_ room!" She walked off, a tiny bounce in her step.

"Well, I suppose it is nice to see her all happy and stuff," Ron reflected as the boys watched her leave incredulously, "but must she rub it in?" 

Seamus eyed Harry and Ron. "Did she mention what happened over the summer that made her get the sudden facelift? She looks fantastic! Brains and body, she'll make someone a happy husband in the future."

Harry shifted uncomfortably as a few of the guys eyed the retreating form of the Head Girl like she was some piece of meat. 

"Leave her alone," Ron ordered, entering protective brother mode. "She's still our little bookworm girl."

"I truly fear to see what Ron'll be like when he's a father." Neville snickered. Neville had grown up considerably during the years. Granted he was still inept in potions, but rather than melting fifty cauldrons a year, he now melted thirty. He stood at a nice height, five feet eleven inches, and almost everyone in his family wondered where he got the height. 

In fact, all the guys filled out quite well. Similarly to Hermione, Harry's hair kindly decided to settle down a bit into sleek locks. He was an inch taller than Neville, and two inches shorter than Ron, who hadn't changed much except vertically.

"Ok, I don't have to take this. I'm heading to our rooms. If any of you would like to come you better wait five minutes first because if I come across any of you in the hallway, I'll beat your faces in." He smiled. "Except for you, Harry. You aren't completely on my bad side yet."

"Um, thanks. I think." He blinked. Rapidly. "And I think I'll head back too."

The Common Room was just as it used to be, not that anyone really expected it to change or anything. Although you never really could tell with all the protection spells and charms all over the place courtesy of the threat of Voldemort.

Harry was glad to be back at Hogwarts. It was his home. At the moment, he still wasn't sure what he was going to do when he graduated. Assuming Voldemort was still around at that time, maybe Dumbledore would hire him to do something productive around the school. 

He sighed as he sat on his bed.

"Something bothering you, Harry?" Ron set down his own prized copy of "Quidditch Through the Ages" and sat next to Harry.

"I was just thinking…" His voice trailed off.

"That was fairly obvious. I didn't need to be Hermione to figure that one out."

Harry's eyes moved from focusing on the floor to Ron. "What do you want to do with your life when we graduate? I mean, Hermione's Head Girl. She could do anything she wanted. You have connections through your brothers and your parents. I have a Muggle family-"

"-And quite a bit of fame that will attract just about everybody to you. You're also one hell of a bloody fantastic Seeker. I bet any Quidditch team would kill to have you."

"You think so?" Harry's eyes brightened. Apparently even the most famous teenager in wizarding history can be a bit insecure. 

Ron sent him a look that clearly read: That must have been the stupidest question you ever asked me yet. "Harry, since you've been here, and not wound up in the Infirmary that is, Gryffindor has won the House Cup and Quidditch Cup. You have your future set out for you. Don't worry."

Harry snickered, his spirits lifted considerably with the newfound confidence Ron had in him. "Hakuna Matata."

"Um, Harry. What exactly have those muggles been doing to you?" Ron gave him a classic 'Ron' look. One mixed of incredulity and 'what have you been brewing that the fumes were that bad?'

"It's from a movie called "The Lion King." It's the name of a song. Basically just a bunch of muggle nonsense to make kids laugh."

There went the 'psychologist Ron' expression again. "Uh huh. I see."

Harry gave up.


	2. Error

Hello, it's me again, assuming people are reading this. I was reading over the outline I have for this story and I figure it will end up being 10 chapters or so. Give or take a few. This chapter should let you all understand where I'm going with this. I hope this also means people will become interested and impacted enough to comment in a review. For all I care, tell me something about my writing style. I completely encourage constructive criticism, as long as I can take it and use it to improve. Telling me I'm a horrible writer tells me…approximately nothing in the way of the method I should employ to improve. 

I am looking for a beta reader, preferably someone well versed in PoA and GoF. Let me know in a review, email, IM, whatever, if you're interested.

On a more random note, is 'defence' the British version of "defense"? I see it spelled with a 'c' too often to brush it off as a typo or spelling error. Same with 'pyjamas' versus 'pajamas'. Sorry, random tangent of thought. 

As always, characters involved in this story are property of J.K. Rowling and I just borrow them on occasion. 

Epic Proportions: Genealogy: Error

Hermione sat in the same seat she sat the night before, brow furrowed in thought as she read the Daily Prophet. Absently, she nibbled on a piece of buttered toast as she pondered over what she read.

Harry and Ron, on the other hand, were busily comparing notes on one of the assignments Professor Snape gave them to do over summer. Comparing, meaning copying, that is. Hermione, of course, finished that particular assignment the day after she arrived home from school. 

"Hermione!"

"No. I'm not going to tell you anything about the homework, Ronald Weasley. If you had started it before yesterday, I might. But you didn't, so no." Not that she would have in that case either.

"I don't suppose…"

"Not you either, Harry. Do your own work. Actually, speaking of work," Hermione said, switching to a completely irrelevant and actually unconnected thought, "do either of you remember all the schools throughout Europe ever corresponding school-wide projects in past wizarding history? Especially when it isn't a Ministry order?"

Ron raised his head up to look at Hermione and to grab another forkful of eggs. "Mumph."

She gave him one of those pricelessly Hermione looks. The one that clearly read: why do I put up with you? "Can you try that again? In English this time?"

He swallowed. "Not that I know of. The closest thing I can come up with is the Triwizard Tournament and that isn't even all that educational. At least not for the entire student body. Why?" He welcomed the distraction from the evil that was Potions. 

Harry also took a break from his last minute checks of his essay to listen to what got Hermione so interested that she was now neglecting her half-eaten toast.

"Well, there's a little blurb in here that Beaxbatons and Durmstrang are also doing a school-wide genealogy project. It says none of the Headmasters will reveal anything as to why suddenly they want their students to know about their ancestry."

Ron shrugged. "I don't know anything about it. What about you, Harry? Has Professor Dumbledore told you anything about this?"

Harry bemusedly raised and eyebrow. "And if he had, don't you think I would have mentioned it to you all by now? Much less when would he have? You've been with me since we stepped onto the train. Unless you think he joined me and told me when I was taking my shower?"

"Okay, okay, stupid question. Sorry Harry."

Ron and Harry got lost in their Potions' essays again, only to be brought out of it when Hermione laughed. "I don't think I've ever come across something in the Daily Prophet that's funny. So why are you laughing?" Harry asked, intrigued.

She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stop so she could tell the guys. "Some of these suggestions are so stupid they're hilarious!" She still giggled a bit through the sentence, but the worst of the fit was over. "Like this," she said picking up the paper again. _"Perhaps it's because more and more witches and wizards are being unfaithful in their marriages today and parents are trying to be sure their children are in fact that: their children." _She giggled more. "Then there's my all time favorite: '_Or maybe You-Know-Who has finally gained power over the Headmasters, most notoriously Albus Dumbledore, who we all know You-Know-Who has feared for years. Some debate he is trying to gain records to prove who for sure is pureblood and who is muggleborn. And if Albus Dumbledore has finally been defeated by You-Know-Who, why hasn't The Boy Who Lived's-'_ " She made a weird noise then. "Maybe I should stop there."

Harry grabbed the paper from her hand, prepared for the worst. "_'Why hasn't The Boy Who Lived's obituary been in the paper?'_ That's almost sweet for Rita Skeeter." Harry added, frowning as he read the author's name.

Ron rolled his eyes. "How can anyone believe anything she writes when she actually says trash like that?"

"One of the mysteries of human nature." Harry snorted. "And anyway, I think this essay is to. We might as well head to Potions with the Slytherins." 

Ron winced as he prepared himself to admit what the rest was trying to forget most of all. "With Snape. And with Malfoy."

The trio journeyed to the dungeons in silent contemplation of the impending doom they would inevitably receive from Snape mainly because they had the audacity to exist. 

Very few people were already in the classroom since most tried to prolong the opportunity of not seeing Snape or anything connected with him. For instance, most cauldrons were hidden from view under lock and key when not needed as a subtle reminder Snape could not find them, nor terrorize them when at home or in the safety of the dormitories. Ron and Neville were famed practitioners of this. Hermione displayed hers, resulting in most who visited her in her room enduring a great deal of mental anguish.

They took their usual seats in the back corner of the classroom, somewhat close to the door to have an easy escape route, after turning in their homework, where they silently hoped Snape would overlook them. Not that he ever would, of course, but every teenager and child feels the need to dream.

Slowly the rest of the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins progressed in, some dragged by their braver friends who just had their best interests in mind. Neville scurried in and joined Harry, Hermione, and Ron in the corner with the same hopes they had, after he placed his homework on Snape's desk. He looked sick to his stomach, a common sentiment all but the Slytherins seemed to experience in Potions class.

Approximately three minutes after Neville arrived, Snape entered the room, silencing everyone merely by his presence. After six years of knowing Snape, one would believe the original fear would dissipate. In reality it is heightened, as is the overall disgust of his appearance. Someone could only spend a limited amount of time in the company of such a dark and dismal personality before feeling quite ill. 

Snape stood at the front of the room and surveyed everyone present. And grimaced, of course. "I expect the same thing out of you this year as I have the past few years. Longbottom, perhaps you could try to melt only 20 cauldrons this year." The parchment Snape kept tally of Neville's embarrassing cauldron-melting moments was in plain sight of anyone who dared getting close enough to Snape's desk to look. It wasn't any secret he always marked another tally for every caldron lost. 

Harry, Hermione, and Ron all heard Draco's whispered: "In fact, if the weasel's family had what Longbottom's family spends on cauldrons a year, they wouldn't have any money worries."

Ron ignored him. During the summer, Ron decided he should probably finally take Hermione's advice and pretend Malfoy didn't ever say anything. There was no reason to be constantly angry at such an immature git, he always reasoned out theoretically when he pictured the scenes in his mind. But it was hard. Oh, was it hard. 

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look and squeezed his hand, the one he was constantly clenching and unclenching in a rhythmic pattern after Malfoy's juvenile attack that he, of course, wouldn't get punished for since they were in Potions. 

"However, as Longbottom's incompetence in the field of potions is not important to the study for the rest of you," Snape added, drawing all the attention back to himself. "As you all are aware, Professor Dumbledore wants the professors to aid you all in embracing your bloodlines. The potion you will be making today and studying the next few class periods is the _Familia Sanguis _potion. Can any of you other than Ms. Granger tell me the purpose and the effect of this potion?"

This time it was Ron's turn to squeeze Hermione's hand as she sulked at being thwarted. 

No one raised a hand. "Very well. Mr. Finnigan, astound me with your intelligence. This was, after all, also something you were told to study over the summer and is located within your textbooks."

Seamus felt martyred by all the pity looks he received from his fellow Gryffindors. "The potion functions to, uh, reveal the bloodline of one's family. The potion reacts with the traits you got from ancestors, and on the palm of your hand, it forms the coat-of-arms of your parents."

Snape looked frustrated. It was a perfectly acceptable answer, if a bit stilted. But he needed some reason to take off points from Gryffindor. Ah, yes. He did forget to mention a little detail that would play a large role in their potion. "And what, Mr. Finnigan, is the herb you use if you want it to reveal paternity versus the one to show maternal lineage?"

Seamus had been silently thanking Merlin and any god he could think of off the top of his head for Snape asking him something in a chapter he actually skimmed over. Until that part. He paled significantly. "I don't know, Professor."

"Five points from Gryffindor for your lack of attention in your studies over the summer. The rest of you are to work in groups to make this potion today. All the ingredients have been provided to the exact age and condition required of the potion's directions. The instructions to prepare the potion are in your textbooks on page 279. This is for your maternal side. I will be grading your summer assignment as you work on this. Any questions?" He asked in one of those tones that clearly meant you had better not have any. 

All the groups finished quickly, mainly because after six years, most of the students that lacked a talent for potions now knew who the ideal people to join in a group with was by this time. Needless to say, Neville was with Hermione, Ron, and Harry, and Crabbe and Goyle were sure to never leave Draco's side. When they finished, Snape was on his third bottle of red ink and he had hardly started grading a sixth assignment.

He toured the room, checking each group's potion. When he got to Harry's group, he paused and waited a moment. 

Eventually Ron gathered his courage. "Professor Snape, sir, what are you waiting for?"

Snape turned to face Ron. "Mr. Weasley, it has not escaped my notice that Longbottom is in this group. I'm waiting for the whole thing to explode."

Neville flushed scarlet, as did the rest of the group, all out of sympathy for Neville. The Slytherins laughed like they always did in situations like these.

"Hermione was very careful to check everything I did before I did it," Neville explained in a small voice. "We hope the potion is up to your standards."

Snape bent down and used his hands to wave the fumes towards him. He breathed in as little as possible, having decided on the second day of class ever he would never trust anything Longbottom made, or helped to make. He sneered as he stood. "I suppose it's tolerable." That basically translated to a 'perfect work, except for the minor detail of the red and gold emblem on the attire of the students doing the work.'

Shockingly, all of the potions met with his approval. "As soon as I have finished with you in the back room, you have my permission to leave the class. Remember you are required to research the history of the side of your family we revealed today utilizing whatever means you feel necessary, excluding spells and potions that effect time."

The room was as quiet as a tomb, everyone anxious to get it over with and leave the dungeons. 

"Mr. Malfoy, you are first. Please fill a glass with the potion and follow me." Snape headed to the back corner of his classroom, Draco following nearly on his heels, closing the door behind him.

They all thought they were in the clear when the door opened once more and Snape stuck his head through the doorway. "And I will be watching you in the room. I expect you all to be on your best behavior or I will take fifty points from each house per disturbance." He closed the door behind him loudly as if he was trying to create a fear amongst the remaining students. And if he wasn't intending on it, he still did a great job.

Draco came out three minutes later, as smug as usual with his common smirk on his face. "Parkinson, you're next."

Needless to say, Pansy flew to the room in order to not keep Snape waiting. 

It almost looked like they would make the end of Potions go by without insults from Malfoy when he stopped right before stepping out of the classroom. "My mother's side is just as pure-blooded as my father's, not that that was in question or anything. She's distantly related to Grindelwald. What I want to know, is what happens when a _mudblood_ takes the potion." He left at that point, laughing at what he for some reason considered funny.

"So that's what happened," Hermione stated, a little twinkle in her eye. "Genetics doomed him to a life of stupidity."

It didn't take a long time for Snape to get through all the Slytherins and soon it came time for the Gryffindors. He started with Neville first, muttering something about needing to get the walking catastrophe out of his classroom as soon as possible.

He said the same thing about Ron and Harry when he called those two up to him as well. All three of those tests passed without problems, but when it was Hermione's turn, something went wrong. 

She sat in a little chair, across from Professor Snape, fully assured the potion would work. After all, the other three's in her group had been just fine.

It took about thirty seconds for the potion to take effect, and then the coat-of-arms would stay upon the palm for another minute, giving the one tested plenty of time to memorize it or copy it down with their free hand. 

Hermione expected something from her mother's side of the family. What she got was a coat-of-arms very familiar to her, but definitely not what she anticipated at all. She swallowed. "Obviously there was some kind of mistake. I suppose some dust or something must have gotten into the potion and contaminated it after the others in my group went. When should I come in and make it up?"

Professor Snape still stared at her palm, incredulous. As it finally began fading, he cleared his throat. "Ah, yes. Obviously an error somewhere. I suppose if you came back in three days you would have sufficient time to complete your research?"

"That's fine with me, Professor." She stood up. "I'll tell…"

"Finnigan." 

"Right, I'll tell Seamus you want him now." Hermione didn't think she could run out of there fast enough.

Meanwhile, only one thing ran through Snape's head: Hermione does not make mistakes.

Harry and Ron were waiting for her outside the classroom. "So? How was it?"

Hermione gave a long-suffering sigh. "Apparently there was some kind of mistake in the potion."

Ron looked confused. "It was fine for the rest of us!"

Hermione just shrugged. "It didn't work out right when I was tested."

"Ah," Harry muttered, in thought about his own family and how he wished he had met them.

There had to be a mistake, Hermione reasoned. After all, she knew for a fact her mother was in no way related to a Slytherin, much less one herself.


	3. Exposure

I still don't own the Harry Potter universe and won't ever in the future either. 

Warnings: highly twisted, overly used plot lines; possible OOC.

Thank you all so much for reviewing! It means so much to me! I appreciate all of you that took the time to answer my questions and to let me know what you think. Keep it up! Comments and tactful criticisms are wonderful!

I'm dreadfully sorry about the amount of time it took me to get this chapter up. For some reason, it was the hardest to write so far. Ugh…and I still don't like it much more, I'm just so sick of it I decided to post it and get it over with. In other words, if you're going to tell me how much it sucks, save your energy, I know already.

Epic Proportions: Genealogy: Exposure

Severus Snape sat across from Dumbledore in his office, mind occupied with thoughts of his seventh year Potions class with Gryffindors and Slytherins. Most particularly, Hermione Granger, who had had something slightly disturbing revealed to her in class earlier. 

Minerva McGonagall was also present in the room. After all, Hermione was one of her students and she also knew what was going on. Albus told her almost everything happening within Hogwarts.

Snape was the last of the teachers to turn in the information received about the students' families. Dumbledore thought he was in the clear, that maybe Hogwarts didn't have what they were searching for, but the look on Snape's face didn't encourage that line of thinking. 

A few rolls of parchment sat on the desk and Dumbledore dreaded reaching for them. "Is there anything that needs to be said before I look through these?" Dumbledore asked kindly, noting Snape's discomfort.

"One of the potions must have been wrong. Ms. Granger received an impossible result. Nonetheless I still included within the parchment of information." Snape was highly tempted to twiddle his thumbs just to make the whole moment more bearable.

Dumbledore's and McGonagall's eyes met in worry. Of all the people, this was truly a shock. 

"Impossible…as in how?" Dumbledore didn't want to hear it, knowing once he did, there was no going back. 

Minerva appeared just as dismayed as he did, if not more. After all, Hermione was one of her prized students.

"The potion indicated her mother is a Slytherin. Everyone is aware the last of the actual Slytherin females, Circe Slytherin, died fifteen years ago without leaving behind any children." He cleared his throat, "well, as much as anyone knows." Most of the response sounded rehearsed, as if it was something he was used to discussing with others. "She never even married before she died." 

Voldemort was often concerned that the female descendant of Slytherin who was to immediately receive all authority over his supporters and himself would live during his time (AN. I promise I will reveal what this part means in, uh, the last chapter of part 1. Until then, form your own opinions of where I'm taking this. It IS hinted at throughout the whole chapter.). With Circe's death, chances were even slimmer. Especially since the prophecy Salazar foretold specifically mentioned she would be the daughter of a Slytherin female. Circe only had one brother, Geoff, so there weren't any worries there anymore. 

The Slytherin lineage was something that still worried Snape. He continued to hope for a miracle so that something would occur to get Voldemort out of the position of authority he held and someone even better would replace him; someone who could return the wizarding world to its formal glory before Voldemort and before Grindelwald. Someone who could finally bring peace to a troubled world.

"Miracles never do cease, do they, Minerva?" Was Dumbledore reading his mind again? Snape found it irritating how easily Albus managed to know everyone's feelings.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "I do not see how this fits into a miraculous category, Albus. The girl's life is about to be drastically changed and many things she held to be truth will be proved lies." She lifted her teacup to her lips for a sip.

Snape felt as though he had been kicked in the gut. "Do you mean to tell me," he choked out, "that Ms. Granger really is a descendant of Slytherin? Did Circe have a child before she died?" Could there truly be a future for their world? While Ms. Granger was a particularly irritating student, she was quite intelligent and completely aligned to Dumbledore's side. There was no one better to be put in such a difficult position. She would be respected for her intelligence and many of her ideas would have the potential to be considered by Voldemort's inner circle within time.

Albus nodded. "That is, however, all I am aware of concerning the status of that family at present moment."

"And that is why Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are doing the same thing, correct? Hyperian Slytherin contacted each school and had them do this 'school project,'" he sneered, "to find his long-lost grandchild?"

McGonagall nodded. "And I think it best we not mention any of this to Ms. Granger yet. It's an unfair burden for someone of her age to be forced to take. Undoubtedly the Slytherin family will be most repulsed by her upbringing and do whatever in their power to remove that obstacle from Ms. Granger." Inwardly she sighed. Her favorite student would happen to be blood to the opposing House. It was just her sort of fortune.

"Perhaps we should invite her Muggle family to stay with us here for awhile until this matter is resolved completely." Dumbledore mused, twirling his beard idly. "Although I would need a reason to explain this to Ms. Granger since she obviously is not aware of her apparent adoption."

Snape stood up at that point, figuring it best for him to hear as little of the conversation as possible. With Death Eaters, one could never be too certain if there was Verita Serum in one's beverage. "I suggest you mention a source informed you her parents are current targets. On that note, if you would please excuse me, I still have some matters to attend to."

"And I think it best I not be here when the messenger comes to pick up the results, either." Minerva announced as she set her teacup aside and stood to leave with Severus. 

Dumbledore smiled half-heartedly. "I thank you both for your time and thoughtfulness. I hope this all ends for the best."

The moment the door closed, he sighed and put his head in his hands. Hermione Granger was a supporter of the rights of muggleborns since she was, after all, one herself. Or so she believes. This was potentially a great break for those against Voldemort now that one of their own was guaranteed respect in Voldemort's circle of followers. Unfortunately, it is a huge responsibility to place on a girl her age with so little experience in the world.

It must have only been a minute later before the door opened again and Lucius Malfoy was there, blocking all the light from the hallway torches. 

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy. How may I assist you?" Dumbledore asked, composing himself quickly and trying to conceal the exhaustion he was almost sure would try to creep out with his voice. He was getting too old for this, but he would never give it up.

The impertinent scowl his son seemed to share with him never left his face as he entered. "I was sent by Hyperian Slytherin to pick up some _information _you were to have prepared for him."

Albus highly doubted Lucius had ever said a sentence in which he wasn't the subject ever in his life. His eyes wearily roamed his desk for some parchment to pen a quick letter to Slytherin. Originally he was going to hand over all the results, but seeing the messenger, Albus decided it would be much safer for his students if he was to just write a quick letter to Hyperian Slytherin. He was trusted with that information and for the sake of many muggleborn children, he knew he must keep those records as far away from Voldemort and his Death Eaters as possible. 

Lucius' eyes hungrily roamed the room as he neared the portraits of previous headmasters, trying to use them as a cover. He was proud and cocky enough to believe Dumbledore had no clue what he was doing. Like almost every other time he was here, there was nothing out in the open to learn.

From behind him came a hesitant cough. "Mr. Malfoy." The letter was more like a quick jot, with only two words on it: Hermione Granger. The only thing that took even a semblance of time happened to be the wards he put on the letter to prevent Malfoy from poking his nose where it did not concern him. 

Lucius had to give the man credit. For an old wizard, he certainly moved quietly. Dumbledore was right behind him, with a letter he was apparently to take to Slytherin. 

"This is the information asked of me. I know I can trust you to deliver it safely." In the same way he knew he could trust him to donate thousands of galleons to muggleborn help funds. As much as he wanted to say that, he refrained.

Lucius remained standing there. "And?" 

"Mr. Malfoy, if you expect me to inform you what this about, you are sadly mistaken. Especially with so many flies buzzing around." Albus did not put it past Lucius to use Skeeter as a constant source of information regardless of what he was told. Nor would he put it past her to use him, willingly or unintentionally.

The fly perched on Dumbledore's bottle of ink began buzzing around at that. Rita Skeeter had been so proud she managed to sneak in with Lucius Malfoy and now it turns out Dumbledore knew all along! That really irked her. Hogwarts' alumni really were not jesting when they spoke of Dumbledore's amazing knowledge of everything going on around his school.

After getting far away enough from Hogwarts' premises Lucius apparated straight to the large Slytherin Manor. Although 'castle' was probably the more technical term for it. 

Lucius investigated the envelope cautiously, attempting to get what he could from it, but Dumbledore warded it well and he was unable to get through it without it appearing as though it had obviously been tampered. He finally just gave up, hoping Slytherin would tell him. 

A moment after he knocked on the door, a well-dressed House Elf clothed in a silver and green striped pillowcase with a silver rope knotted around his, or her, he wasn't certain yet, waist answered the door. 

"This way please! Master is waiting! Sinky anxious to please her Master!"

Female then, Lucius thought absently, following her to where Hyperian Slytherin waited. 

Sinky poked her head in. "Man to see you, Master! Man you sent to find-"

"Send him in, Sinky and stop speaking of that." While many told Malfoy he had a cold and drawling voice, Slytherin had a deep voice full of thunder even in a casual setting. Lucius would hate to ever hear him angry. His voice was soothing at the same time, making the man impossible to stand against. With thunder and power in just a voice, he could move mountains.

"Yes, Master! Of course, Master! Sinky most sorry! Sinky never do it again!"

Lucius couldn't see anything that was taking place during this conversation, but he was quite familiar with the Slytherin family and could imagine how Hyperian looked during this interchange.

Sinky opened the door wider and motioned for him to enter.

"And Sinky, inform my son and his wife to come join us."

The walls of Hyperian Slytherin's study were made of a dark wood. The carpeting was thick, dark green plush with thread of silver accents. All the wooden furniture in the room matched the walls exactly. The impression the room gave was of overwhelming power like the man who owned it. The intimidating effects of the room to caused people to make mistakes and he used that to his utmost advantage. 

"Welcome, Lucius. Please," he gestured towards one of the leather armchairs across from him, "take a seat. 

Hyperian's hair was originally black but was now half silver, giving him a highly educated appearance and kept him still looking handsome even in his older age. He naturally attracted respect, and for that matter, fear.

A 'please' from Hyperian was his version of a polite order. Right before Lucius sat down, he pulled the letter from Dumbledore out of a pocket and slid it across the desk to Slytherin.

Slytherin flipped the letter over to see the familiar Hogwarts seal. Definitely information from Dumbledore. "While we wait for my son, would you care for a drink?"

"A drink would be most appreciated, Lord Slytherin."

Hyperian looked him in the eye. "You do not need to be so formal when it is just us, Lucius. We are friends, are we not?"

There was a great deal of hidden meanings behind those words. Salazar Slytherin was a man highly respected by all wizards in all countries and many generations later, this was still the case with the Head Slytherin. With power comes a great deal of prestige and a great deal of irritating people who wish only to climb the social ladder. Malfoy was an esteemed name as well, but not near at the caliber of Slytherin. Few families were thought of more highly than his, and the Slytherin family was one of them. 

"Of course we are, Hyperian. I wouldn't have it any other way." He accepted the glass Hyperian held out to him and settled down more comfortably to wait. 

"Lucius," Slytherin looked up from absently swirling his drink around. "In this letter is the name of a student at Hogwarts that I would like for your son to watch over and lead in the right direction."

He was confused. Hyperian never cared before what happened at Hogwarts, much less of any student. Granted he would ask about Draco occasionally, and other important Death Eater's children, but those times were few and far between. "What is so special about this student?"

His eyes twinkled dangerously. "It seems the Slytherin line will go on. There is a chance the prophecy will be completed."

"Do you mean Geoff and Margaret-" He did not finish before Hyperian cut him off.

"No, the rumors are true. I will never receive an heir from them. But apparently Circe eloped three years before her death. I will spare you the unnecessary details and just tell you she had a child one year later. According to her diary, which is where we found all of this information, she asked the nurses to put it up for adoption right after birth in order to keep the child safe from her family. Really! Am I such a cruel father?" He chuckled deeply. "She never mentioned in her diary whether or not it was even a girl or boy. The child should be about Draco's age and undoubtedly must be magical. The Headmasters at Durmstrang and Beauxbatons have already written back to me with a negative. That leaves only Hogwarts."

"Excellent news!" Lucius breathed. "Lord Voldemort will be most pleased to hear of this new development." And would most likely reward him for being the first to know of this information, he hoped.

Hyperian snorted. "About as pleased as a mandrake out of soil. Nevertheless, tell him anyway. I feel I owe it to my cousin to know of his relative."

It was then that the rest of the family opted to grace them with their presence. "News from Hogwarts, Father?" Geoff raised an eyebrow imperiously. "I have to say I would be just as happy as anyone else here that I have a nephew or niece, but I think it's a lost cause by now." He helped himself to the bottle of brandy and a glass and made himself quite at home.

Lucius could feel his heart beating faster as Hyperian played with the harmless envelope. This was an important moment in history, and it appeared as though Slytherin was allowing him to be a part of it. It was an incredible honor. 

"Yes, news from Hogwarts. I believe my grandchild has been found. Hopefully the child can make it further in life than you two have." He appeared oblivious to the look shared between Geoff and Margaret. If he did notice, he obviously did not care.

He took his sweet time opening the letter from Dumbledore, and what seemed like an eternity to read it. In truth he was just playing the name over and over in his head. "Tell me, Lucius, what do you know of a 'Hermione Granger'?"

Lucius's eyes widened. It figured. There had to have been something more to a girl that managed to make the highest grades Hogwarts had ever seen. It only made sense she would be a relative of Salazar Slytherin. There were just those two tiny problems…she was a Gryffindor and allied to Dumbledore.

"Hermione Granger is Head Girl at Hogwarts. She has broken every academic record ever set there, including Lord Voldemort's. She believes she is Muggleborn, so I would assume she has no idea of her adoption. Unfortunately, she was sorted into Gryffindor and is close friends with the Weasley family, as well as Harry Potter. She most likely completely supports Dumbledore, especially since she believes herself to be one of dirty blood."

Hyperian snorted. "What it all comes to is her birth family is the epitome of everything she hates, is that not so, Lucius? And she is the future of the Slytherin family."

Lucius turned over different ideas in his head. The only way to get her to accept them would be if they were all she had left. Hyperian fully supported the removal of muggle-born witches and wizards from society, but did so from a distance. Most likely he would not have a problem with the sudden demise of his granddaughter's adoptive parents. "If I may be so bold, I am sure I could get a group together to, shall we say, remove the problem of her family? No one would be likely to suspect you if we do it immediately especially considering the distaste for our activities you openly display in public. It might be surmised, but there would be no proof."

Geoff was nodding in thought. "And Head Girl, you mentioned? If someone where to break into her rooms, perhaps a child of an associate of yours and destroy everything in it, almost all her ties to the past would be gone. Granted she would have some extended family and most likely some muggle friends, but we can do what we can."

"What you're saying is you would like to completely emotionally drain her and then pick up all the pieces for your benefit?" Margaret sounded horrified. "Imagine what kind of mental problems the poor thing would have!"

"Oh come off it, Margaret!" Her husband snapped at her. "What if she happens to be the one? What if Salazar's final heir ended up being a muggle-lover? Where would that leave us? On a street most likely!"

Hyperian began pouring more drinks for everyone. "Yes, I think her parents should be removed from the scene. I do not believe we need to stoop to common vandalism, however." His eyes searched out Lucius's. I'm leaving the future of the magical community up to you, Lucius. Can you eliminate them tonight?"

"Easily. In fact, I will leave at once to prepare everything. It was quite rude of those muggles to never inform their daughter she was adopted. They should be firmly punished for their deceit."

None of the Slytherin family noticed when he finally left, being too involved in their thoughts. Hyperian located a parchment and began writing a letter to Dumbledore. He would meet his granddaughter and he would have her respect! She was a Slytherin and she was going to act like one! He hated knowing he had to completely rely on a seventeen-year-old girl for the future.


	4. Letters

I'm so excited to see how many people like this fic! Its such a wonderful feeling to see the number of reviews get larger and larger! As always, I want input! Suggestions! Ideas for pairings! Come on, you can do it!

Sorry about the lack of speed in posting, I'm a bit stressed out with the evil English professor I have. I used to think I did pretty well in English classes… currently I'm praying I keep my C. And along those lines, this has been spell-checked only. Sorry.

And I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, there would be more Draco.

Epic Proportions: Genealogy: Letters

Hermione grimaced. "If he doesn't stop looking at me, I'm... well, I'm not really certain what I would do, but I plan on doing something."

Ron paused mid-bite to look at her quizzically, "Who's looking at you?" And then promptly finished eating that particular scoop of food. "Harry and I can look back at him and see how he likes it."

"I think you would be more like to punch him or exchange insults if anything, Ron." She risked another glance at the Slytherin table. "I think he's done now. It was Malfoy, by the way."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Malfoy? Do you think he's up to something?"

"Ha!" Ron snorted. "When is he not up to something is the better question. You want me and Harry to go see what's up?"

Hermione's eyes widened with fear at that thought. She could see it now: Ron and Harry confronting Malfoy, he in turn making fun of her more for over-imagining things, and fights breaking out, and-"

"Or if you don't want us to we don't have to," Harry added quickly, noting her panicked expression.

"Thanks," Hermione said, relieved. He always knew the right thing to say.

They continued eating in silence until finally Ron spoke up again. "Not only Malfoy, but Snape's been paying an unnatural amount of attention to this part of the table."

Both Harry and Hermione chanced looks out of the corner of their eyes. It did appear as though Snape was looking at their group with more than just his normal scrutiny. There almost seemed to be a bit of sympathy mixed in there too. Undoubtedly they were just seeing things. Since when did Snape ever exhibit an emotion other than scorn, especially to them?

Every Friday evening, Hermione's parents would sit in the living room for a movie night. It was a time for them to escape from their long and tiring days of constantly cleaning teeth. Tonight's pick had been 'Resident Evil'.

The movie just ended when suddenly three dark figures appeared right in front of them. 

"You know it wasn't very nice of you to lie to your 'daughter'," the man in the middle said conversationally, stressing the last word of the sentence. "You filthy Muggles do not know how to respect your betters by even the simplest action, do you?"

"Muggles? Are you wizards?" Even in such a dangerous situation, the man still took the time to berate himself for such a stupid question. "Have you done something to Hermione? If you have, I swear, you will-"

He was cut off by a kick in the side. "Shut up unless you're going to answer the question."

The builds of the strangers standing in the living room with the Grangers were tall and sturdy, leading them to believe them to most likely be male.

The first speaker laughed darkly. "Do you know what we do to people who do not give wizards and witches the proper respect they deserve? We kill them." 

The muggle man tried his best to shield his wife from them. "You can do what you want to me, but leave my wife and my daughter alone!" Obviously it was his attitude that rubbed off onto Hermione.

"Avada Kedavra!" 

The man crumpled to the ground, dead, leaving the woman open for them to attack. "Normally, Mrs. Granger, we have a bit of playtime before we kill females."

She was openly trembling in fear while he addressed her.

"Count your blessings we decided to leave this simpler. You were, after all, the adoptive mother of a Slytherin. For that you receive the greatest award: an easy death."

She died not a minute after her husband.

By the time Snape arrived there, all he saw were ashes and the Dark Mark, shining high in the sky. All he could do was stare. Then he began to laugh like someone who just realized things had just gotten about as bad as they could ever get. On the side, he wondered if Hermione liked the color green.

If only he had come last night! 

Hermione woke up in the middle of the night to a brisk tapping on her door. "Harry, if that's you, I'm going to strangle you." She called through the door sleepily while she grabbed her robe to throw over her nightclothes.

She opened to be greeted by a very haggard Headmaster. "Oh! I'm so sorry Professor Dumbledore! It's just that it's so late and-" 

He raised a hand to stop her talking. "No harm done by this, Ms. Granger, but I think we are overdue for a rather serious conversation."

"Isn't it a bit late? Granted I don't have any classes tomorrow morning or anything…" She stopped. It had to be serious and most likely too serious than her brain could handle at the moment. "Sorry, Professor. You would know the best thing to do. Has something happened to my parents?"

Hermione and Albus each took a seat in the two chairs Hermione thoughtfully placed in her room.

He ignored her question for the moment. "I understand you had some strange results in the genealogy test you took in Potions. I believe the test revealed the coat-of-arms of Slytherin to you, is that correct?"

Hermione nodded as the sleep was starting to clear from her head.

"It has also come to my attention you are not aware of your adoption."

Hermione was awake. Quite awake, for that matter. "Adopted?" She sputtered. "I couldn't be adopted! I would remember that!" Her eyes narrowed. "Is this some kind of joke? I don't think it's very funny if it is."

He closed his eyes pensively for a moment. "Your mother was a lovely young woman by the name of Circe Slytherin. She died when you were two. Three years before her death, she eloped with a man named Ethan Flamel, a descendant of my good friend Nicolas Flamel. You were born a year after this, in this very room. This was, of course, before the tradition of Head Boy and Girl getting private rooms began."

Hermione couldn't help but to survey her room again, this time in a very different light. She could imagine the scene. Her supposed mother lying on the bed holding her, Madam Pomfrey in the corner watching over her just in case complications had arisen from the birth. 

Dumbledore continued his story. "Ethan knew he could trust me to keep news of your birth quiet. A week after you were born, your parents put you up for adoption to keep you away from Hyperian Slytherin, your biological grandfather. While your mother had been raised to dislike muggles and those associated with them, she couldn't hate them at all. She did not want you to have to grow up in the same situation she did. Thus, the Grangers adopted you under conditions they told no one of your adoption. Not even I knew the name of the family that took you. Your parents never even named you out of fear they would grow to love you too much in that space of time to give you up."

"How did she die?" Hermione was riveted. Who would have thought she of all people would have such a tangled past?

He paused, reluctant to reveal more than necessary. "Voldemort killed her. There is a prophecy that a girl with the blood of Slytherin in her will come to rule the Death Eaters and fulfill Salazar Slytherin's legacy. Since your aunt and uncle are unable to produce children, Voldemort found them to be no threat. Circe, however, could have been the woman foretold, but at the very least it had to be a descendant of hers. When he killed her, he had no idea you had been born."

"Which puts me in a great deal of danger." She fell deep in thought. "Voldemort doesn't know I exist now, right?"

Albus could feel his eyes watering for this girl whose life was about to be utterly destroyed. "He knows. Hyperian was sorely put out his daughter had been murdered. He will protect you from Voldemort."

A sharp cry rose from her throat. "He knows too?"

He nodded. "I fear it will not be long until the entire wizarding world hears of it. Anything concerning the Slytherin family is magnificent gossip. And now, I have most unfortunate news."

He stopped to clear his throat. "I'm sorry to have to tell you about this. A few hours ago, a group of Death Eaters broke into your home. They set the entire house on fire, but the Ministry officials there found two bodies in the remainder of the house."

She stared at him, overwhelmed, before her entire world was encompassed in darkness.

Sorrowfully, Dumbledore levitated her to her bed, arranging her comfortably. Each death weighed heavily on his conscience. It was time these needless deaths stopped and Voldemort was removed from his position of power. Too many families had been destroyed already. 

Even as he was approaching his office, he could hear Fawkes and another phoenix heatedly snapping retorts at each other. Entering his office, he understood why. A rare green phoenix was intruding upon Fawkes' food. 

All the portraits of the previous Headmasters were shooting glares at the two for most likely disturbing their rest. At least, Dumbledore figured, that would be my reasoning.

He recognized the green phoenix as the personal messenger of Hyperian Slytherin. The green breed was difficult to raise and considered ostentatious by many, making it ideal for the Slytherin patriarch. 

It dismayed him, all the reminders of such an evil family having so much power over so many people. 

His eyes strayed to his desk where two letters laid, side by side. One was the stereotypical cream parchment with green sealing wax marking it to be from the Slytherin family, while the other brought Albus much more hope. 

He broke the blue seal eagerly, hoping that perhaps this grave injustice to Miss Granger might be prevented. No matter how soon she might reach eighteen by this time period's reckoning, she still was required to have an adult to speak for her actions while in school and hold her accountable. Hyperian was hoping to fulfill that position for Hermione, but if at all possible, Albus was going to do what he could to stop him from getting his hands on her.

It was unlikely the Ministry would favor the Flamels over the Slytherins for multiple reasons. Nicolas and Perenelle were both in failing health and were likely to die at any time. Not only that, while both families commanded a great deal of respect around the Wizarding world, Hyperian had an advantage that he had no qualms against violence or other grievous solutions to get his way. 

Dumbledore held the letter with one hand and twiddled with his beard with his other, while at the same time pacing around his office, reading the letter aloud to himself.

"Perenelle and myself are willing to do anything within our power to protect the girl from Slytherin; we both fully understand the concerns you mentioned in your letter and completely agree with you on all of them. While it pleases us to no end she has been found and the Flamel bloodline will be continued (hopefully), we are both sympathetic and sorrowful it has come at such a price. My first and foremost regret is I have no way of reaching Ethan to inform him of his daughter and fear to allow word of her predicament to spread to the paper, regardless if it is a likely means of reaching him before the imminent trial occurs."

He would not be the slightest surprise if that meddling Skeeter woman had contacts on Mars. She could tell the world about Hermione, and probably destroy all of Hermione's remaining sanity at the same time. The child was about to get enough attention when the custody battle would take place. However, depending on how things went, Hyperian might have already contacted Skeeter himself.

He continued reading it. "We will do our part and try our best to gain, custody, shall we say? From the little bit of information you sent to us, she appears to be a highly intelligent and remarkable young woman whom both my wife and I are excitedly looking forward to meeting at the earliest convenience. That is, as soon as she is ready to meet us. Our schedule is busy in the coming few weeks, but all of that can be rescheduled so as to help Hermione in any way necessary."

Bless him! The Flamels were such considerate people, always looking out for others' best interests. If only more people in society could follow in their footsteps. 

He moved onto the next letter, much more apprehensive about the contents. He scanned the letter quickly, eyes crinkling in thought. So Hyperian had beaten him. He had custody of Miss Granger already, but there was no way Albus was going to let it go at that. He would fight Slytherin in court, and support Nicolas and Perenelle completely. He only hoped his intervention would be enough…

Hermione awoke the following morning in good spirits, pushing the awful nightmare behind her and slightly amused she had been so tired the night before she neglected to remove her robe. How preposterous! Her, a mix of Slytherin and Flamel bloodlines? Wouldn't that just make Malfoy's blood boil? Then he would have had to find a new insult to use against her. Not that Mudblood really bothered her anymore, anyway.

She dressed quickly, anxious to get to the table and tell Ron and Harry her dream, positive they would get a kick out of the absurdity of it. She should probably leave out the part of her parents supposed death though, it took away from the humor a bit.   
Just what was that cat's problem? Crookshanks was perched on the end of her bed, watching her intently. Cats were known for their sixth sense, maybe he suspected interesting was going to happen today.

She dismissed the idea as she pulled her hair back with a gold barrette. The nightmare must have just unhinged her a bit.

She took a quick glimpse around the room, making sure she did not forget to take anything of any importance with her. Her eyes fell upon a parchment with unfamiliar handwriting lying open on her desk. She knew she did not put it there, and that meant some one had been in her room while she was asleep. She hated a cluttered workspace, as it was too easy to lose important work. 

As she read it, she felt the blood drain from her face. But it was a dream. None of it happened. There was no way it could be true. This sort of stuff never happened in real life. This happened to characters in books, or movies, but not to her. Scratch that. This kind of stuff happened to Harry, not her.

How did she know she was adopted? Sure, there was the potion that supported that idea, but her parents should have told her! Now there was no way to be certain because her parents were… She could barely form the word in her mind. 

It was so unfair they were killed. They were not part of this world, but yet they fell, innocent of all crimes but raising a child to be the woman she was now. What sort of reign of terror was this, that such pure and wonderful people were killed because they did not have the potential to float a feather with their mind?

She curled up on her bed, deep in thought. Dumbledore promised her a few days off from school to come to better terms with the new developments in her life. Was that even possible? How does one come to terms with something like that? It was all her fault. If she had never been born, the Granger family would have all been together and alive. 

Crookshanks moved from the bottom of the bed and curled up on her stomach, purring deeply and nudging her with his head. He had known the problem she had to face when she woke up, and knew just what she needed. The subtle companionship was welcome and at this stage, preferred over Ron and Harry's silly antics.

She gazed out the window nearest to her, playing over the fond memories of her parents. When she was a child, she would climb into her parents' laps and listen intently as they read different stories to her. They started her early on history, which was most likely why she liked history so much now.

She tried to picture the way her parents looked the last time she saw them. They were so proud of her achievements, wishing they could be a part of her world and see her in her element, in her temporary home for the past six years. 

After awhile, Hermione dragged herself off the bed, disturbing a content Crookshanks napping in her lap. She came to a realization during that time. Everyone died eventually. Granted, Nicolas Flamel was trying his luck at defying that for awhile, but even he was accepting of the imminent. It was in no way fair her parents were ripped away from her at such an early age, but sitting there, doing absolutely nothing would never help anyone. 

She pulled out her Defence Against the Dark Arts text and began studying even more passionately. Her life was about to spin out of control, but she would not go down without a fight. At least, she doubted much of her life would be left in her control if Slytherin got custody over her. Voldemort would pay for everything he did to those undeserving of early death, and Hermione would do her part to make sure it happened, even if it meant her own death. 

She never even noticed the tears sliding down her cheeks until the splotches appeared on the text. Even then, she ignored them.


	5. Resilience

Epic Proportions: Genealogy: Resilience

The rest of the day flew by for Hermione. She missed breakfast, lunch, and almost dinner if Dobby hadn't popped in with a tray laden with food.

He had to make a few scuffling sounds before she noticed an extra individual's presence in the room, she was so intent in her studying. She whirled around in her chair, her wand clasped tightly in her white-knuckled hand. As soon as she realized it was Dobby, she relaxed. "I'm sorry, Dobby. I wasn't expecting anyone to be in my room."

"No, no! It is Dobby who is most sorry for scaring Miss!" He offered the food out to her. "Where should Dobby put the food for Miss? Harry Potter and his friend came to Dobby concerned that Miss had not been down to eat and asked Dobby if Dobby could bring Miss food!"

She cleared her desk off, meticulously arranging all the notes she had been going through before Dobby's arrival. "Here is fine."

Dobby set the tray down, cautious not to hit anything off her desk. "Miss, Dobby heard about your loss. Dobby is most sorry."

Hermione's eyes widened. How much did he know? How much did anyone know about her predicament? "How did you find out?" She asked, right before picking up a piece of orange, suddenly feeling the emptiness in her stomach.

"The Headmaster announced that Miss's parents were killed." He noticed she had stopped nibbling on her food. "Keep eating Miss! Must stay healthy for the rest of the school year!"

"Dobby, I have to know, did he say anything else?"

Dobby narrowed his eyes in thought. "No, that was it, Miss. But please eat! Dobby shall be very upset if you don't and Harry Potter and friend of Harry Potter will be upset too!"

She took a larger bite of the delicious looking chicken on her plate. And then another one, it was so good. Dobby looked on with a critical eye as she finished everything on the tray. 

She leaned back in her chair, emotions high-strung. She closed her eyes but opened them a short while later to see Dobby still standing beside her. "Dobby, do you know where Harry and Ron are right now?"

"Harry Potter and friend are outside the door, Miss!"

She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't find the words she was looking for. She opted to just close it again. Pushing the tray a little further from the edge of the desk, she stood up and walked to the door of her room, pulling it open to see two sheepish males. 

Ron held out something in his hand, "we brought desert?"

The irritated look on her face slid off as she pulled them both into her room. "You...!" Words failed her.

"Look Ron! I think she loves us!" Harry teased, grabbing Hermione for a hug. "On a more serious note, how are you holding up?"

"I'm doing all right, I suppose. All things considering." She brushed her hair out of her eyes.

"All right enough to finish off all the food we had Dobby send up," Ron added to it, looking dismayed at the empty plate. "Not even a little left for me?"

"I thought you brought desert, Ron," Hermione asked as Harry let go and Ron hugged her.

"Mmm. Chocolate frogs. It was all I could find at the last minute. I thought about bringing the Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, but then I realized all that was left were the ones we weren't sure about."

They all goofed around a little more, not even noticing when Dobby left. After about ten minutes, things settled, and Hermione was weighing in her mind whether or not to tell them. It was a fast mental debate, of course she would tell them! They were her friends! They helped each other through everything.

All three were comfortably seated on her bed, enjoying the confidence each person's aura gave off. 

"I'm about to go into the Viper's Nest."

"That has got to be the most random sentence I have ever heard you make, Hermione," Harry said to her, smiling slightly.

"I found out something about myself I hadn't known. Something no one knew."

Wisely, Ron and Harry stayed quiet through all of this.

"When I took the potion in Snape's class, I figured nothing would happen since I wasn't from a wizard family, like with you Harry, since your mother was muggleborn. Instead, I actually had something appear and it was the coat-of-arms of Slytherin. Naturally I was familiar with it from all my studies of the History of Magic. Last night, when Dumbledore came to tell me about my parents'…" She swallowed a lump in her throat. "…Deaths, he told me the truth of my adoption. Apparently I am the daughter of Circe Slytherin and Ethan Flamel. They put me up for adoption to keep me safe from Hyperian Slytherin and other evils he is connected to. I figure he already has custody over me."

Harry looked confused. "But you're so close to eighteen, it won't matter much, will it?"

Hermione through her hands up in the air in mock-exasperation. "Honestly! Don't you ever pay attention in class? Until you graduate from a Magic school, you MUST have an adult to represent you, no matter whether Muggle or Wizard. It would not surprise me if Dumbledore isn't already corresponding with Nicolas Flamel to fight Slytherin in court, since they are, after all, close friends. Unfortunately I haven't got any other muggle relatives." The stereotypical "I-can't-believe-you" face accompanied this tirade.

"Now, back to what I was saying," she started up again, emotion devoid from her voice, focused completely on the task at hand. "I will undoubtedly be forced to endure their company and I plan on learning as much as I can from them. The problem at hand is I need to know them better. That's where you two will come in. I need both of you to help me find every little bit of research or newspaper information on them as possible in case it may give me any insight to their character so I can better recognize when they are hiding something or acting suspicious."

She stopped talking when she noticed Ron and Harry sharing a look over her head. "Hermione," Ron started gently. "I realize it is common for people to want vengeance right after something horrible has happened, but don't you think it might be better if you don't get yourself killed from Day One?"

She looked at him with disbelief. "You don't think I can do this!" She accused.

"Ron didn't say that, Hermione, he just wants you to be careful. It would be awful if anything happened to you. We care for you too much to lose you now."

Her back stiffened as she sat straighter. "I'm doing nothing. I want to join the battle more directly and this is how I will. I will do this with or without your help." She met Harry's eyes defiantly.

Finally Harry shrugged and sighed. When Hermione got like this there was absolutely no reasoning with her. "Fine. I promise to help you with whatever you need."

Ron's eyes widened dramatically. "What do you mean, Harry? You're actually going to help her get herself killed?!" He put his head in his hands. "Great, now both my friends aren't right in the head!"

"Come on, Ron, you know just as well as I do Hermione won't take no for an answer. She'll either nag us to death or do it herself. If we do it this way, we won't have to hear her nag, and I'd feel better knowing I was helping her."

Hermione wasn't sure whether she should bristle or smile.

Harry pulled her into another hug. "Hermione, just as you have always supported me, I'll do whatever I can for you. I don't know what I would have done without your knowledge about everything. I'd probably be dead now."

Hermione gave him a wan and tired smile. 'Both of you have this nasty habit of underestimating yourselves. I have full confidence you two can accomplish anything you put your mind to." She punctuated her encouragement with a large yawn. 

Ron and Harry stood up and made their way towards the door. "Well, obviously you're tired so we'll let you go to bed now. I s'pose you'll need your rest for all these plans you've got," Ron said, opening the door. 

"We just wanted to make sure you were ok and not getting over your head. I think we were too late for the second one." Harry grinned, closing the door behind him just before the pillow hit the door.

  


About 7:30 Thursday morning, Hermione was already downstairs at the Gryffindor table absently nibbling away at a few pieces of toast and some bacon. Her mind was still in another world, thinking about her parents. 

Breakfast was a family tradition at the Granger household. Hermione inadvertently became a morning person because her parents would never allow her to sleep in. They believed the best way to start off a day was with a healthy breakfast together. 

Well, she'd never have that again.

  


Harry and Ron dragged themselves out of bed and joined her thirty minutes later. 

"Sleep well, 'Mione?" Ron forced out between two huge bites of scrambled eggs. 

She smiled slightly. "I did all right, all things considering. Could you pass the jam?" She pulled her wayward hair back quickly to keep it from getting in her food. It had an irritating habit of it. "What about both of you? Did you get plenty of rest for the Quidditch practice you have this evening? I imagine you're starting early to get an advantage over the other teams?" She raised an eyebrow.

"You know us too well, Hermione," Harry grinned. "Will you be working on the research in the meantime?"

"Naturally. Will you..." she tapered off for a moment. "Will you join me later on and help out?" 

Ron grimaced. "Well, we said we would, didn't we? Ronald Weasley never goes back on his word!" He said, sitting up straighter in his chair with a proud grin on his face.

"Thanks," Hermione added dryly. "I feel all the more confident now." She stood up and headed towards the doors that lead closest to the library. "See you both later! Don't get hurt yourselves! And oh! I'm not going to be in class today, so would you two PLEASE for ONCE take good notes?"

As the boys watched her leave, Ron turned to Harry. "What'd she mean by that?!"

Harry laughed at Ron's sullen expression once understanding seemed to kick in. "Other then that, what do you think about how she's holding up? 

"Honestly, I'm waiting for her burnout. She's emotionally scarred, and now she wants to work all the time on putting some stop to her family. She's going to get sick soon. Mum would tell her to just sit down outside somewhere and have a good cry. Mum's good at stuff like that."

Harry frowned speculatively. "I'm surprised your mum hasn't written to Hermione yet. Do you think she's heard yet?"

Ron snorted and took another gulp of juice. "Of course she's heard! Even I saw all the different stares from the tables during breakfast either. I think everybody in the Wizarding world has heard about it. After all, she's Harry Potter's muggleborn best friend. That's newsworthy."

Harry's head hit the table with a thud, jarring the condiments nearby. "Poor Hermione." 

  
  


Poor Hermione was right. She had the Daily Prophet in one hand, and her knapsack in the other. While it was two days after the murder, she knew there would still be some mention of her parents in the paper, most likely speculation as to what happened. 

As she walked through the hall, each student who saw her would give her sympathetic glances, but few came up to her to inquire to her well being. All in all, she preferred it that way. The looks were hard enough to bear. 

Information on Salazar Slytherin was easy to come by, and it was only a little harder to find some concerning his descendants. 

In the History of Magic class, Binns often skipped over tales about the Slytherin family, somehow aware that it was a dangerous topic to address in any class. That's really deserving of credit on his part, considering he never noticed when the occupants of the front row of desks took lengthy naps throughout the lectures. Or the second row. Funny enough, the third row napped often as well, except when it was the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff class. Hermione always paid complete attention. 

Hogwarts, a History, mentioned Slytherin, but only in vague terms. It talked about the Chamber of Secrets, but Hermione knew all about that from Harry, and her investigations into the petrification of the students. It touched a little onto the founding of Hogwarts, and Slytherins beliefs about the admittance of the children of muggle parents.

Hermione slumped back into the chair and stared intently at the book. Something looked...off. And then she saw it. She noticed that there seemed to be two pages stuck together in her copy of the book. She must have accidently gotten food on it during one of the many times she read it during lunch. Recently, Hermione took to carrying it around with her for whenever she had a chance to read it again, and just forgot to take it out of her book bag.

With interest, she slowly and cautiously pulled the pages apart, excitement building up in her stomach. How ironic that of all the pages she skipped throughout her numerous readings of the book, it would relate to what she was researching right then? Much less that she noticed it only now.

There were no pictures on the pages, and that made Hermione even happier. The more to read, the more to treasure the knowledge gifted to her for a longer period of time. There was something about words that she loved. Words are a never-ending jigsaw puzzle. You could put them in any order, and it made a new picture. 

  


_"Salazar Slytherin was renowned for his intense dislike of muggleborns and their presence in Hogwarts. Prophecies concerning Slytherin were in an abundance, one of the most notable and mysterious being the one in which his final heir is first mentioned. Slytherin remained living in Hogwarts and watching the children grow and learn, firmly set in his ways. Rumor has it, that he became close to one of the students during his last year living, and during this time, prophesied the coming of his final heir, the one who would complete all his ideals to create his perfect world. This heir would know all of his secrets and be able to find certain heirlooms that would apparently aid the heir in a personal quest. Salazar was to hide them where only the heir could find. Naturally, with the presence of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, people had no doubt who the heir really was." _

  


Hermione narrowed her eyes at the last line of the passage. "People had no doubt." But that does not mean he really was the heir. Obviously even Voldemort had his doubts if he felt he had to destroy the remaining Slytherin family. Fate always had a way of ensuring the future was carried out. What if it was one of HER descendants who was the true heir? Chances were slim, she knew, but chances were chances. This made the entire situation just that much more dangerous. No wonder Voldemort had felt threatened by the Slytherin family. 

Just then, something clicked in her mind. Dumbledore told her the prophecy was to be fulfilled by a _female_. Voldemort was definitely male, last she heard. That meant there had to be more information she had yet to find. Information of a much more specific nature that was hidden from the general public. Obviously Dumbledore was privy to the information, but Hermione had no idea if he would be willing to tell her right now. Dumbledore had that annoying habit of hiding information from the people most affected. 

She poured through the rest of the historical books she thought might contain information about Slytherin and the prophecy, but to no avail. She could find little to help her with what she needed. There was plenty of worthless information, though. And things that she already knew. That left one more thing to try: the Restricted Section. As Head Girl, Hermione was given permission to access the Restricted Section whenever she pleased, which greatly pleased her since she would no longer have to sneak in there. 

She made her way there, nodding briefly to Madam Pince and waiting for the Librarian to acknowledge her permission for Hermione to enter. Being liked by the majority of the faculty was a nice benefit for Hermione.

Hermione spent two more hours sorting through the books but getting nowhere. Dejectedly, she turned around, almost running into Professor Dumbledore. 

"I'm so-"

He raised a hand before she could finish, silencing her. "It's fine, Ms. Granger." His eyes surveyed the area. "Looking for information on your family?"

Hermione lowered her eyes, somewhat ashamed. "Yes, sir."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, Ms. Granger. It's normal to have an interest in your family. I take it you did not find anything?"

Dumbledore was not surprised when she said, "no, sir."

"I believe I may have some books in my personal library that will help you. I fear it will take me some time to locate them, so why don't you stop by tomorrow before classes start? That will give you time to get breakfast and read them while the others are in class."

Only tomorrow? Hermione scrunched her nose. She hated to wait when she knew something was right there, practically within her grasp. "That would be wonderful, Professor Dumbledore. I appreciate it."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I do admit I have some ulterior motives. There are some issues I need to speak with you about concerning the role your new-found family will have in your life starting now. Normally I would like to get it over with as soon as possible, but seeing what hour it is, you will need your sleep to better understand the books I'll loan you."

Hermione refrained from groaning. She did not even want to think about what she would have to do with the Slytherins, or what they would expect from her. "That's fine. Thank you again, Professor Dumbledore."

He watched her walk out of the Restricted Section, her head held high. He could feel the girl's emotions coming off her in waves. She was strong, Dumbledore admitted. She reminded him a lot of another amazing woman who attended Hogwarts some years ago. Lily Evans did wonderful things with her power, and he had full confidence Hermione Granger would be just as amazing. 

  
  


Ouch. Our school's football team just lost to UT. 49-0. Eek. Feel sorry for the roommate - she had to suffer through the whole thing as a member of the band. Anyway, dreadfully sorry about how long it takes me to update X_x. I keep getting sick, and college FLIES by. I feel as though I've been here MAYBE a month. 

Things are starting to pick up in the story, finally, and Hermione gets to meet the family a lot earlier than she wanted to. At the moment I think I know who I'm going to pair her with, but I may come up with something else. I'm always open to suggestions.

A few notes about the story:

The Slytherin family. As a rule, I tend to HATE fanfics that bring in new characters unless brought in slowly. Hopefully I can write them into this in such a way the rest of you grow to 'like' them as much as I do. Personally, I find them fascinating and can't wait to further play with their personalities.

OotP: I'm going to say this happens after OotP because I can. I will confess to you all that I'm rather rusty on OotP, so be warned. Most of what happened won't have a big play in this anyway, so I don't think you all need to be too worried.

Yeah, yeah. Hermione's not a muggleborn. Cliche. Bite me. At least her parents are unique. THBBBBT!

Hint. Hint. Review. 


End file.
